“Speaking of...”
“They’re overprotective, Essey. That’s why I’m telling you, not them.”
“But—”
“Love ya, bye.”
Damn, heifa hung up! I climb to my feet and mutter a prayer of protection for my girl. As I saunter through the sand toward the balcony, Alexis strolls into the house with a pile of plates. Antonio’s seated with his glorious back muscles tempting me to touch them.
Edging onto my tippy toes, I approach his seat. Seconds before I can surprise Antonio, he chuckles.
Oh, he’s on the phone.
Sliding onto the heels of my bare feet, I’m prepared to give him space when he mentions Gustavo.
My enemy.
As.
He.
Laughs.
Hmmm...
I soundlessly stalk to a lounger at the end of the deck and sit at its edge.
Are Antonio and Gustavo friends?
To cease accusatory thoughts, I glance at Ryann’s text. The international itinerary boasts of 30 days and multiple countries. Dang, I couldn’t even afford to sleep at the foot of her hotel bed.
Minutes later, Antonio approaches me, only to sink into a crouching position. The hot gremlin feathers my hair and brushes reverent lips on my forehead like he's adored me for a lifetime.
I pull away.
“Aye, preciosa.” His voice is as intricate as the ocean's depth and has me just as wet. “You’re angry too?”
“Damn right, I am.”
“Ahhh... All the progress we’ve made, was it for nothing?”
“Ya’ know what? I was about to Google if Uber crosses borders.”
His brow lifts.
“Granted, confusion looks sexy on you. I know for a fact you recall my feelings for Gustavo Lara.”
He blinks. “You’ve no feelings for him, sí?”
I snap, “An-to-ni-o!”
“All the people I love call me Manny.”
Venom upsurges through my veins. “Take me home, please.”
“Alright. No helicopter ride for you, preciosa. Your behavior hasn’t warranted it.”
Acrimony clamps my throat. But my eyes reiterate my previous statement. Take. Me. Home.
For the first half-hour, Antonio drove over a bumpy road into a jungle thicket. Next, we cruised through a road bustling with street vendors. On the highway, I face the passenger window.
I find myself speaking. “I keep thinking about how... Gustavo would say nothing was going on. That we were together. But he was a chauvinist. He could game you up, then chat with the guys.”
“Hmmm...” Antonio says.
“So, you’re not telling me what that call was about?” Dammit, Essence! You’re the one caving.
“Do you care for Gustavo, preciosa?”
“No!”
“Bueno, I appreciate your honesty. Now, we’re at that part again. I spoke with a friend.”
“Yes. Very chummy,” I mutter.
“May I tell you why I sounded so cordial on the phone?”
Wrenching my fingers, I implore, “Please.”
“First, I was on the phone with the CEO of Baroque House. The cabrón, Benedict, went to the same university as me. We get together sparingly. We’ve talked even less since his secretary harassed me about a deal.”
“Okay...”
“I agreed to the deal, Essence.”
“But you’re not...”
“Screw the deal, but what I care about is vindicating you. I gave mi amigo one stipulation. Get Gustavo Lara to your event for Poppy, then I’d sign the papers.”
My stomach sinks as I stare at him. “You can’t-”
“I did.”
“But you can’t do anything, Anot—Manny. If you vindicate me like you had with Alexis, you’d likely ruin your million-dollar deal.”
“A multi-million dollar deal, preciosa,” he reiterates, long hair whispering over his golden jawline.
With my heart hurled into my throat, I croak, “I apologize, Manny. Forgive me?”
“On one condition...”
My lips curl like a brat. The nice thing about that, though, is I should’ve been a brat in my 20s with Gustavo. But either way, I feel younger. “Sure. What will it be, Manny?”
“You trust that I have your best interest at heart. Do that for me, preciosa, sí?”
Chapter 13
Antonio
Two weeks later...
My callused thumb polishes Essence’s mouth as she stands before me in her bedroom. A gold-tone cocktail dress flows like a river around her. In a trance, I contemplate if she’ll run if I promise to worship her for the rest of my life.
“Tonight’s your night, preciosa.”
Anxious, Essence changes the subject. This time though, it’s in my favor. She sucks my thumb in her mouth with the same enthusiasm she’d offer my dick.
“Don’t do this to me,” I groan.
I pull the ponytail holder from my neat hair and am seconds away from tossing the bowtie. Still, my cock strains against my tuxedo pants, so I wag a finger at her.
“We have time,” she murmurs.
“If someone walks up the stairs and sees you polishing off my dick, I will kill them.”
Essence giggles. “Then go. Your presence tempts me. I need another moment.”
I smile. “I’ll announce you, sí?”
“But this is my gallery. That would be rude of me.”
“I’ll do it anyway.” I hustle down the stairs of her loft. At the bottom step, her assistant, Kyleigh, stands to attention, blocking the area. “Excuse me...”
The college intern turns around. “Mr. Silva, your shipment of wine arrived.”
“Chilled?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And my chef?” I inquire, as I’d not announce my return to the industry with subpar libations.